


First Kiss #79

by HotMolasses



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, M/M, Will fondly remembers some murders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22040644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotMolasses/pseuds/HotMolasses
Summary: Inspired byThis lovely fanart by iluminax
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 134





	First Kiss #79

**Author's Note:**

> Because I never get tired of imagining how it could happen

Will’s lying on the couch, head propped up with one arm, not particularly focused on the book in front of him, while Hannibal dusts the bookshelf a few feet away, hanging fresh-cut Christmas pine garland as he goes. It’s strange, being so casual together, after all they had been through. When Will looks over his shoulder for a clearer look he sees it; he sees the monster, barely contained behind a veil of civility. Sees the blood pouring down in rivulets along Hannibal’s muscular arms as he plunges a knife deep into his victim’s throat. Sees the snarl on his lips as he bears his teeth and the flash of danger in his eyes as he takes the life of his kill.

And yet that same face now is placid, concentrating on the finer details of the bookshelf décor, the fingers capable of such violence now giving a light and gentle touch to the cloth as it sweeps away the dust, leaving the items sparkling and polished.

Then he turns, and their eyes lock. The jolt catches Will’s breath in his throat. Fear, excitement, anger, attraction, betrayal, pain, infatuation, obsession, love; all the emotions he associates with Hannibal rush through him in a moment. Hannibal straightens and sets down his cloth. He takes a few measured steps in Will’s direction, the sound of his shoes clacking against the hardwood floor ringing in Will’s ears. He looks up into the face of death, and knows that this is what his victims see just before they die. Not rage. Not viciousness, not passion. Calm. Calm, with fire in his eyes.

“You were watching me quite studiously.”

Of all the things Will has learned regarding Hannibal, he has perhaps learned the best that there is no point in lying to him.

“I was.”

His knees bend, his tall frame lowering until he is crouching at Will’s level, and now their faces are mere inches away, the breath of the terrible beast close enough for Will to feel on his cheeks.

“Do you find me all that interesting, dear Will?”

The echo of his own words thrown back at him from so long ago causes him to give a small smile despite himself.

“Captivatingly so.”

He sees the corner of Hannibal’s mouth twitch, just slightly.

“Do you feel as though you are my captive?”

Will can hear the pain in his voice. He lets him wallow in it, just for a second, because he deserves it. He will always deserve it. And that is all the punishment Will will ever be able to dispense, because at his next inhale he gets a deep breath full of Hannibal’s scent, and he wants it, and leans closer in to get more.

“Not that you have forced me to stay, but more I have tried to leave of my own free will, and cannot.”

Their lips are an inch away now. Will’s heart is racing, deep, hard pulses that rush up to make his cheeks glow, and he knows he is blushing. He never imagined this. Thought about it, yes. Was certain Hannibal would go down this path if permitted, sure. But thought it would actually come to fruition? He thought he would die first.

“Do you still desire to leave?”

“I never desired to leave.” Will whispers. “My desires, should I succumb to them, are to let you draw me in until I drown.”

Hannibal closes the gap quickly then, having heard what he wanted. Will’s pulse hammers in his chest. His taste is irresistible and Will is pulled in further by it, pressing forward to get closer, even as his mind tries to scream at him a thousand thoughts as to why he shouldn’t be doing this. Oh, he shouldn’t be doing this, and oh, it is too late, as Hannibal pushes forward and Will lets his arm fall, the back of his head pressing into the couch as he is crushed with lips that kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

Hannibal pulls back just enough to speak, his flushed cheeks filling Will’s vision, a lock of his normally perfectly groomed hair falling in front of his forehead.

“Perhaps we should slow…” Hannibal begins.

“Don’t stop.”

Will’s voice is breathier than he thought it would be. Hannibal’s kisses return instantly, rough and needy. Will is boneless, his limbs heavy and forgotten as his lips seek, and seek, and seek. His brain still tries to reason with him. Murderer. Cannibal. Evil, vengeful monster. None of it works. He is drawn, and now he has given in to it. He is resigned to his fate.

Hannibal pulls away this time, far enough back to see all of Will’s face. His fingers lift up to stroke through his hair, and every part of his scalp where he is touched alights. His ears lift up with pleasure, and he turns his cheek into Hannibal’s palm and closes his eyes.

“Delightful Will.” Hannibal says, his voice no more than a whisper.

“Horrid beast.” he replies, opening his eyes to see Hannibal gazing at him, helpless and lovesick.

“Do you regret this change in our relationship?”

“Not so much a change, as a fruition of inevitability.”

Hannibal smiles. Smiles so brightly the corners of his eyes lift up and his irises shine.

“You have seen this as inevitable?”

“As the tide.”

The next kiss is more fervent, lasting even longer than their first, and leads to even deeper passions, the dusting cloth and pine garland forgotten along with all the previous wrongs they have cast upon each other. It is all in the past now, and in the face of this new light, no longer matters at all.


End file.
